Treasure of Lys
by MarieAnneII
Summary: Steffon Baratheon succeeds in his quest for a close Targaryen descendent and the King couldn't be happier. Unfortunately for Steffon, he also accidentally brings a bastards rebellion to the doorstep of the Seven Kingdoms. (AU)
1. Chapter 1

**LAST DRAGONS**

 **277 AC**

 **Free Cities – Lys**

 _Lys the Lovely._ The city that had been awarded the name for its beauty and the beauty its inhabitants equally held. Steffon Baratheon could not, nor would he dare, go against that judgment. Since he and his wife, Cassana Baratheon, once an Estermont, had stepped foot inside the city walls, they had seen nothing _but_ loveliness. From the palm trees that covered them from the unforgiving sun above, the stone walls that shone like marble, the sandy floors that had been carelessly dusted, to the beauties that passed by them. Cassana noted that even those shackled in chains and sailors that were loitering around the harbour would be considered handsome in Westeros. Some of them reminded her of the young Prince Rhaegar, some even of the King's youthful days.

Aerys had sent both Steffon and his wife on a special expedition with one goal in mind; to find his heir a wife that held not only the blood of old Valyria but was also a highborn lady. Of course, their first stop was ancient and once Valyrian conquered Volantis. Their search was futile however, there was not one noble family that had any Valyrian blood running through their veins. The only thing that they could bring back to the King was a fool who had entertained them during their stay. _He could even put a smile on Stannis' face._ Steffon thought to himself, laughing as the fool entertained the company.

On the night that they were due to sail back to Kings Landing, Cassana refused to leave without taking back to Aerys what he had ordered of them. She insisted that they sailed to Lys, where she knew the once wife of Viserys II, Larra Rogare, who had returned to live out her days many years ago and birthed a bastard. Hopefully, her child continued on the bloodline of Viserys and Aegon. If Steffon's mother had taught Cassana anything, it was that Targaryen men could not resist mistresses.

Out of pure luck and Cassana questioning anyone who would answer to her, they found out that the Rogare bank was still in operation. Though many mentioned to them that it had struggled to continue its grandeur after the fall of the Rogare's at the hands of their ancestors. So as a dutiful husband did, Steffon agreed to go to Lys, their search for the bank lasting a long two nights.

Their search was halted by a slave master who had heard of their quest and he offered to take them to the bank, only if they agreed to attend the opening of his pleasure house. Much to Cassana's displeasure, Steffon agreed. His men could use a little unwinding after the long journey.

"Why the Rogare bank?" The slave master asked them, Steffon learned his name to be Mateos, asked them. "I can point you to a more…trustworthy bank." He offered, laughing at their naivety. Cassana had opted to wait for her husband outside of the house, choosing instead to watch the many water fountains that lined the streets elegantly.

Steffon wondered why he spoke of the family like that. "Why do you say such things?" He asked him, taking the plush seat he was offered and crossing his arms over his broad chest.

Mateos gave him a knowing look. "Hundreds of years ago, the Westerosi disgraced the family, only the daughter returned with her daughter. Father and son, dead. It's surprising you don't know their story," he said, almost as if he had heard the tale a thousand times over.

Steffon scoffed. "I don't think the King of the Seven Kingdoms will care what his ancestors did."

Mateos shook his head. "The Rogare's were and still are a bad seed. They marry their siblings and cousins to keep the _failing_ bank in their own hands."

Steffon let out a hearty laugh. "They sound perfect for my King."

Mateos gave him a disgusted look, and Steffon shrugged his shoulders. The subject was quickly changed. "Will you do me the honours of being the first to lay with my most prized possession?"

Steffon shook his head, knowing exactly what his wife would do to him if he dared to even gaze at the so-called _prized_ possession of Mateos'. "My wife would have my head."

It was Mateos' turn to laugh, the silver-haired handsome man slapped his thigh as he did so. "I forgot your women keep you in chains. No," Mateos smiled, watching as a thin woman walked into the room. The girl looked a spitting image of him, silver hair, light blue eyes, rosy cheeks and clad in finery. "Here, _we_ keep our women in chains." Steffon turned away as the girl straddled Mateos and he kissed her. It seemed that he was talking to her more than he was to Steffon. "A man cannot be tamed, Lord Baratheon."

Steffon stood from his seat and rubbed his hands together. "Well, congratulations and I wish you the best in your future ventures, I really must get back to my wife."

Mateos pushed the girl off his lap and onto the seat next to him. "Thank you, I'll show you the bank." Steffon nodded his head and followed him out of the house, not before witnessing many men and women naked as the day as they were born, some he even recognised as his own men. "It's not too far from here," Mateos said, pointing to the oval roofed building at the end of the street.

Steffon looked down at the man baffled. "You wasted my time!" He exclaimed.

Mateos looked back at him, shocked. "You wasted mine! I brought in the most beautiful girl and you rejected her."

"I have a wife," Steffon snapped back. It was obvious that the Lyseni man had tried to use him for his gold.

"So do I," Mateos smirked back, walking ahead of Steffon as Cassana joined him.

"How was it?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest and following the exotic man in front of them as Steffon was doing.

Steffon lifted his shirt to show his wife his breaches, they were tied exactly the way she had done before he went into the house. The knot, only she knew how to tie and untie. "I have eyes for one woman and one woman only," he said, nudging her.

Cassana smiled at her husband and took his hand in her own. "I never doubted you."

 _Oh sure._ Steffon thought to himself and rolled his eyes at his insecure wife. They had been married over twenty years, of which eighteen they spent in utter and complete love. He loved her dearly and loved his sons just the same. They had believed in the early stages of their marriage that was baron, but she proved both Steffon and his mother wrong, giving the Baratheon name three sons. A gift from the gods.

Mateos stopped in front of a large double-sided door and pushed it open, revealing a magnificent room inside. The ceiling seemed to go on forever, the windows were decorated with large R's and tapestries gave the room and air of nobility. "Good day," Mateos said once Cassana and Steffon had stepped into the room. Steffon and Cassana continued to examine the room, it had marble floors, pillars that held the roof up and many doors lined the room. Steffon wondered how much gold, silver, and bronze was held behind those doors.

"Thank you," Cassana smiled, watching Mateos scowl at the room and leave hurriedly.

The door slammed shut and a small woman popped her head from underneath the large table at the front of the room. "Hello?" She said, the word coming out as a question.

"Where are the Rogare's?" Steffon asked, having no time left for pleasantries.

The blonde haired girl frowned at his rudeness. "I'll go and get my master," she squeaked shuffling away from the desk and leaving to a door the led out of the entrance room.

She returned with a large male, who had skin as white as snow, hair as dark as the night and red eyes. Cassana gripped her husband's hand tighter, fearing the creature that had emerged from the large doors. The man had a thin scar that went from his left eye down to his chin, as he neared them Cassana noticed light white specks at the top of his head.

"Can I help you?" he huffed, standing behind the next with his arms outstretched and resting on top of the wooden table.

Steffon looked at the young man, wanting to tell him to be a little bit more respectful. He pulled the scroll that Aerys had signed before their departure and handed it to him. "From our King, in the Seven Kingdoms."

The man eagerly snatched the parchment and opened it up, reading it swiftly, he rolled it back up and smiled at Steffon. "Follow me," he said, indicating with his index finger.

"Well, can we at least know your name?" Steffon asked, watching him walk back to the door he had come out of.

"Drazenko," he paused for a moment, "Drazenko Rogare."

Steffon nodded his head and followed behind him, tugging Cassana along. "And how will you help us find a wife for the heir?" Steffon asked him once more, looking suspiciously around the long hallway that Drazenko was leading them through.

Drazenko turned to Steffon, annoyed by his questions. "I think my father can answer to you better." He said, stopping at the end of the hallway at a large staircase that was surrounded by a spacious room. Leading them up the steps, down another hallway and then to a wooden door. He knocked on it twice, a gruff voice responded and he opened the door.

"They have come from Westeros, on order from the King," Drazenko said, moving aside and allowing Steffon and Cassana to enter the room.

Steffon assumed the man seated at the large desk was his father, the man was a spitting image of his son, though his skin was a little more… _humane…_ and he had purple eyes. "To whom do I owe the pleasure?" He asked, standing from his seat and outstretching his hand for Steffon to shake.

"Steffon Baratheon, and you are?"

"Monford Riverlys, I hope my son has introduced himself?" Monford asked, looking at his son with displeasure.

Steffon frowned. "He has," he chose to leave out their different names and handed Monford the letter, just as he had done earlier.

"This must be your wife?" Monford asked, taking the parchment from his hands.

"Cassana Baratheon," Cassana said, glowering at her husband who had forgotten to mention her like she was some common mistress.

Monford didn't notice their tension, distracted by the words in front of him. "I suppose it's not my sons you came here for?" He jested.

"No, I don't think Targaryen's have ever had trouble producing men. It's a girl we need, with evidence of her ties with Valyria." Steffon responded, holding his hands behind his back.

Monford looked around his office. "You're in Lys. This was a resort for those from Valyria many years ago. You wouldn't have to search hard."

"Well let's not redirect them while we're at it," Drazenko glared, shifting the conversation away from his father, he turned to Steffon. "The bastard daughter of Aegon the Unworthy, Shiera Seastar, had a child with her half-brother, Bryden Rivers. That child had a child with Larra Rogare's bastard child, his aunt, and so the Riverlys bloodline was born." He said, circling his father's desk and standing behind it. "We don't just have the blood of old Valyria, we have both father and son Viserys and Aegon. We are just as much Targaryen as the King himself."

Steffon sucked in a breath. "I'd like to see the marriage scroll that the Maester wrote."

Drazenko scoffed. "Do you think Brynden had time to find a Maester while the Blackfyre rebellion raged on?"

Steffon stared back at him. "We need to see some evidence that you are who you say you are," Cassana said, her voice never wavering as she stared down at the young man, who was more defiant and confident than they had expected.

Drazenko looked at them coldly, he pushed the curtain behind his father's desk to the side and revealed a proud family tree behind them, with names written neatly and faces drawn delicately. He pointed to a blackened image five generations above the last names. "Brynden," Drazenko said, tutting at the dry ink that had been painted over what would've been the image of the man he had looked up to. "Shiera inked him off after he found out she had let his worst enemy into her bed, Aegor Rivers, his half-brother. He annulled their marriage and cursed him to the grave, sending her back to Lys with a babe in her arms and a sickly mother to return to."

Steffon looked at the family tree, the boy wasn't lying. There was a dotted line from Larra that connect to Aegon and another to House Blackwood, a Westerosi House. "So you have a girl for us then?" Steffon asked Monford, this family was the closest they would get to the blood of old Valyria and Targaryen.

Monford beamed standing from his seat eagerly. "My youngest, Shiera, she is a beauty indeed, after her namesake of course." He said, shuffling out of the room, his old age not helping him in his excited state as he tried to move faster.

Cassana decided to stay behind in the study as her husband followed behind Monford. She watched intently as Drazenko looked at the family tree longingly. "You like him?" She asked, nearing the desk as she did so.

Drazenko turned to her and nodded his head. "I do not know who I look up to more, Aegor for fighting for the rightful heir to be on the throne or Brynden, because he is a little bit of my creator. I do not know much about Larra's bastard child, other than he was smart enough to keep the bank under our family." He said, touching the name under Larra's. _Lenox Rogare._

Cassana chose to ignore the statement of _the rightful heir_ and nodded her head in understanding. If her husband had heard him speak so highly of the Blackfyre rebellion, Steffon would probably gut him from inside out, having lost his own father in his arm as a cause of the Blackfyre's. "Have your family always been intermarrying?" She asked, pointing to the tree once more.

"Since the beginning. My father married his cousin, Alyse Rogare, to keep the bank from falling to unwanted hands," Drazenko responded.

"You do not take your father's name, do your siblings choose to take your mother's maiden name?" She asked him.

Drazenko shrugged his shoulders. "Riverlys is a stupid name, it was originally Rivers and then Seastar and then people started to get confused so my grandfather made it Riverlys. Very simple if I'm to be honest. I'd rather take the name of the founders of this bank, who built something great from nothing."

"So you would've married your sister?" Cassana asked, feeling now she was growing invasive.

"If my brother didn't ask for her hand first, yes, out of duty."

Cassana wanted to be revolted, the entire family was built off of incest, she looked at the family tree, only second sons or daughters married out of the bloodline and that was rarely, but her own King and his family did the exact thing, so she jested the young man. "A love triangle. Almost like your idols."

Drazenko looked at her, his red eyes piercing through her own brown ones. "I do not compete, I win." Cassana let a small _okay_ fall from her lips silently, she begged her husband would return soon. "Come," he instructed, leaving her alone in the room for a brief moment. Cassana wondered how his family put up with his hostile behaviour but soon remembered Stannis, who was similar to him and followed him.

He led them down the stairs and into a lounge room, where her husband, Monford and three other figures stood. Drazenko stopped a few steps away from the group and watched as his father recounted the situation to his family. His mother, Alyse Rogare, who he had inherited his albinism from, clapped her hands in excitement, his brother, Valaar Riverlys, who had been born deformed in Drazenko's eyes, with silver hair, a left blue eye and a right purple eye, looked down at the floor, his sister, Shiera Riverlys, frowned at her father.

Shiera was astonished to hear of her sudden betrothal to a random Prince, her father had promised she could marry or bed anyone she wanted, her status did not hurt the family in any way so she was a free woman. "Father," she warned, looking between her two brothers, her mother, her father and the new woman who entered the room. "Lord Baratheon," she said, holding her head high, "I am sorry, but I have to reject your choice."

Drazenko let out a hearty laugh. "Dear sister, _rejection_ is not a choice."

"Drazenko," his brother snapped, angry that he had shown such dominant disrespectful behaviour in front of guests. "Watch your tongue." Drazenko rolled his eyes and looked at his father, expecting him to put his sister in her place.

"If I could have it anyway, I would my dear, but this opportunity is too grand to miss. It would bring us some honour, some respect, some _customers,_ " Monford whispered, bringing his daughter close by her shoulders.

Shiera pushed her father hands from her shoulders gently. "When does he want to marry?" She asked, turning to Steffon.

"The sooner the better," he responded, unsure of the tension in the room. "We should leave, give you some time to think about it."

Drazenko took the scroll that was in Steffon's hands, having noticed while he read it an area where the intended was to sign. He snapped his fingers and a shackled man from the shadows scurried to find his master a quill and ink, returning panting he gave him the quill and held out the ink for him. "We don't need time to think." He signed the parchment and handed it to Steffon. "Let us know when you plan to sail out."

...

The Baratheon's had long left the Rogare villa, leaving the family on their own after Alyse insisted that they stay for a short tea. She had been excited to display her new teas that Valaar and brought for her from Myr but had little friends to do so for.

Drazenko had ordered his sister to start packing for the trip, but she had refused him and stormed to her room, leaving him looking a fool in front of his family. His brother, Valaar continued to warn him. "What you have done has ruined our lives." He whispered to him, leaving to begin preparations to sail out. Valaar had a love for ships and sailing and was only at home during the winter when the seas were too rough, so it was odd that he was home during the summer. He had promised his father that he was touring the Free Cities finding customers for their bank and trading goods. Drazenko didn't believe his brother, however, knowing full well he was looking for someone to buy out the bank.

Drazenko opened the door to his sister's room and watched as she fumbled to cover herself in her freshly warmed bath. "Have you started packing?" He asked her, sitting on her plush bed, amused by her anger towards him. They had never seen eye to eye, but he was still dominant over her.

"I will go there with nothing, show them that I am no highborn," she sneered back at him, her eyes turned red from her crying and her cheeks were hot with frustration. "Why cannot you let me live my life as I want to live it."

Drazenko neared her bath and she cowered away to a small corner. He sat on the edge and outstretched his bulky arm to her cheek and stroked it. "Because dear sister, this is our one way to reclaim what was taken from our family. Just as they did many years ago."

Shiera glared at him and moved away from his hand. "That was a hundred years ago, that is old history. When will you grow up and live in today?"

"When I am given what is rightfully mine,' Drazenko smirked back at her, biting his lip as he looked down at her body through the murky water.

Shiera felt her stomach turn, the tea she had forced down was begging to return back up. "Get out," she demanded, holding her hands over her breasts tightly.

Drazenko gave her a dark look and slapped her sharply, leaving a burning sensation on her cheek, his family ring leaving behind a small trace of blood. "You forget yourself, sister. You forget your role. Love whomever you want, but if that Dragon chooses to make you his wife, his mistress, his cupbearer, his whore, his slave than you shall."

* * *

 **(Publishing this early bc I'm impatient and hate to keep you guys waiting)**

 **I know the family tree is confusing so I'll leave it below:**

* * *

 **Larra Rogare + Viserys II = Aegon IV**

* * *

 **Aegon IV + Serenei of Lys = Shiera Seastar**

* * *

 **Aegon IV + Melissa Blackwood = Bryden Rivers "Bloodraven"**

* * *

 **Larra Rogare + unknown Lyseni = Bastard daughter Rogare**

* * *

 **Shiera + Bryden = Bastard son Riverlys**

* * *

 **Bastard son & daughter = Rogare children. And so on until **

* * *

**Monfrod Riverlys + Alyse Rogare = Drazenko, Valaar, Shiera.**

* * *

 **(Too confusing? I just got caught up in the idea honestly and I hope you guys understand it)**

* * *

 **Oh man, I really hope you guys like that. I have tried my best to edit it well and I am looking for a Beta for this story so if you want to Beta please let me know. I don't know if I have told you guys but English isn't my first language and I actually moved to Australia six years ago. So help would be much apricated and even if you leave a review that lets me know what I have done wrong, that'll be great too! I do not mind criticism as long as it's not hurtful, I have feelings too XD.**

 **This story is up on Wattpad with images if you're more of a visual reader and it will be updated weekly every Saturday (AUS time) Also for Lust & Fire readers that story is going a major detox so people don't be mad if you don't see a chapter for a few months, I'm actually thinking of rewriting the whole thing because of timeline mixups (I don't want to change history itself and somethings HAVE to stay the same otherwise some characters might not even exist) Forgive me. **

**Wishing you all a wonderful weekend ahead, stay safe x. Always here for anyone who needs to talk about anything (I know that was random but I have recently lost a friend to suicide so for anyone who I can be there for, always know my PM's are ALWAYS open)**

 **MarieAnneII**


	2. Chapter 2

**WINDPROUD**

 **277 AC**

 **Free Cities – Lys**

Shiera woke to the sound of her maid and companion. Melisya, clearing out her room. She had gone through the entire room, top to bottom. Draws were left open and empty, even meagre objects like flower vases and bowls that Shiera had decorated her room with were gone.

She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and drew the heavy sheets over her head. "I wake from dreams to a nightmare!" She groaned, letting out a frustrated sigh.

Melisya smiled at the girl and shook her head. "Please be grateful, you're marrying a Prince! The _Prince_ of the Seven Kingdoms no less." Melisya reminded her.

Shiera drew the sheets from her head and looked at Melisya's silver chain, biting her lip as she cursed herself for complaining around a slave no less. "You're right, at least Drazenko won't be around to-,"

"To what?" The dreaded voice of her older brother came from the open door. Melisya stopped her movements and bowed her head. He entered the room, closed the oak door behind him and circled around the young slave. "Considering your current state of unwillingness, I enlisted Melisya to pack for you and she's done a wonderful job."

Shiera glared at his back, wondering just what he had done with or worse yet to her maid. "I'll change and meet you outside." She said, wanting him out of her room.

Drazenko rolled his eyes, nearing the slave that had turned to stone at his entrance. "I don't care what you do, as long as you make it to Valaar's ship by the time it's sailing." He said, giving his sister a careless look. He pulled one single silver key from under his sleeve. "For my best girl," he smiled wickedly and turned Melisya around forcefully. "Take care of the pleasure house for me. I think we both know the consequences of failure," Drazenko whispered to her, placing the key in the chain around her neck and unlocking it, it fell to the floor with a loud _clank._

Melisya sighed a sigh of relief, rubbing her neck, she nodded her head profusely. "Of course, master."

Drazenko gave her a pointed look and kicked the chain to the side. "You're free now, just like the others in the house. Congratulations."

Shiera scoffed from her bed silently and got off of it, moving quickly to the washroom. " _Congratulations,"_ her voice mimicking her brothers. "Using free slaves, oh brother you are smart indeed," she muttered washing her face quickly. She waited to hear the door of her room close, indicating her brother's departure, before she went back to the main bedroom. For what she knew was to be the last time, Melisya helped her get ready. Sliding the dress over her head, brushing her hair, and helping Shiera tie her complicated boots around her feet. She _was_ going on a ship, it would be stupid to wear anything but boots.

As they exited the villa for what was to be the last time for Shiera, she couldn't help but feel empty. She had no real memories inside the large residence, and the family had rented many of its rooms to travelers to make most of their money. The only thing she would miss about the Villa would be Melisya, her one, and only friend.

Melisya gave her a hug, acceptable now that her chains were freed. "I hope life treats you well," she smiled sweetly, holding onto Shiera's small shoulders.

Shiera smiled, feeling heat move to her nose and her eyes well up. "You too."

Melisya rolled her eyes. "You are to marry a Prince! I think we know who the Goddess gave her kisses to."

Shiera rolled her eyes, "if it is places you want to trade, I beg you let us."

Melisya, with her dark hair and stark blue eyes scoffed. "We'll wait until I am eight and ten with grey hair and pray my eyes suddenly differ in colour, right?"

Shiera nodded her head eagerly. "Perfect!" She exclaimed. Their bittersweet farewell was cut short by Shiera's other older brother, Valaar, clearing his throat.

"My men are growing restless, the sun stays up for half the day you know?" He joked. Shiera looked up at her brother playfully and shook her head, indicating her clothing trunk, and he lifted it up with ease and led the way to the docks. Drazenko in all his excellence had arranged for most things to be taken to the ship. With one last look and wave to Melisya, Shiera followed him. "I can't believe they're making you do this," Valaar whispered, careful not to talk too loudly.

Shiera shook her head. "You'll be there with me, every step of the way."

"Unfortunately."

"Lar," Shiera said, stopping in her tracks behind him. "How bad can this Prince possibly be?" She asked him. She had pondered the idea for a while, and couldn't really complain. Her other option was to wait for another suitor to come along, which she knew the chances were slim, or marry her brother, and it wouldn't be Valaar. Her sweet Valaar stood no chance against Drazenko when it came to competition.

Valaar ignored her statement and kept walking, quickening his pace. "Shut up," he warned.

"I mean, he's going to be the _King_ of Seven Kingdoms! That's better than the head of a bank or – no offense – a sailor," Shiera honestly blurted. In fact, she was growing giddy at the fact that she was going to meet a whole Prince.

Valaar turned to glare at his sister, the trunk slipping from his right hand and leaving a painful bloodless scratch on his palm. He held his tongue, not wanting to lash out in a state of anger. "Is your main objective to torture me?"

Shiera slowed down her walking to be a few paces behind Valaar. "No," she muttered. The smell of the sea, sweat, and wine drifted to her nose and she held her hand over it. "Oh gods," Shiera exclaimed, keeping herself from gagging. _How the hell will I manage half a moon?_

She followed her brother as he led her to a large ship, with her families sigil, Truth, the families Valyrian Steel which was once carried by Moredo Rogare, in front of a golden background. A ship next to theirs had the sigil of a black stag on a bright yellow background.

"Our one is called Goddess of the Seas, theirs," Valaar said, pointing, "is called _Windproud."_ He scoffed.

Shiera rolled her eyes, following him to the steps of their ship. "It's not a competition Valaar. Just get us their alive and I will kiss your feet." She exaggerated, watching as he dropped her trunk with a grunt on the floor.

"Don't be dramatic, I've sailed this beauty half my life and she is yet to fail me." Shiera frowned, looking around the ship. Apart from a few crewmen, they were completely alone. "Mother is below deck, resting. You should go an join her before we leave. It's hard for first timers."

Shiera nodded her head, not wanting to object against the master of sailing himself. "See you later," she said, following his finger to the stairs that led below deck, dragging her trunk behind her.

…

They had been sailing for almost two sennights, Shiera and her mother had refused to go above deck as soon as the anchors were lifted from the ground and the ship began to move. Valaar laughed at their distress, watching as they lay on their beds, lifeless almost. He was glad Drazenko had been kept preoccupied, filling out endless papers that the Lord Baratheon had given him, choosing to take siege of Valaar's office. He did not mind though, well not that he really could mind.

Valaar watched the water under him, it was his first time sailing to the Seven Kingdoms, so he was following the lead of the Windproud, a ship much larger and… _prouder_ … than their own. Perhaps that was why his father had chosen to sail with the Baratheon's than with them. His ear twitched as the screams of his sister were heard.

"Stop it! Those are mine! Please stop it!" She repeated, clinging onto her eldest brothers arms as he flung trunk by trunk overboard.

Drazenko pushed her off him, hauling up the last of her belongings and throwing it over the wooden barrier into the deep blue sea. It sunk to the bottom before Valaar could even blink twice. "You wish to embarrass us by wearing clothes of a poor man's coin!?" Drazenko yelled at his sister, glowering down at her small body.

"Would you have me wear the same dress then? To smell of salt and vomit and piss?" She asked him, boldly at that.

Their mother quickly clambered up the stairs and stood between her two children. "What's the matter?" She asked her son, her red eyes questioning his own.

"I've seen whores dressed better you," he sneered, ignoring his mother altogether.

Valaar, unable to take his brothers childish behaviour quickly pulled his sister away. He had suffered one too many blows to the face and knew better than to stand up to him. "Come, I'm sure mother has something you can wear. Leave it now."

Shiera sobbed, holding her hand over her mouth as she did so, and Valaar watched as his crew looked as their leader shamefully. He gave them all pointed looks. "M-my stuff Valaar! You didn't even tell him off!" She exclaimed, pushing him off her.

Valaar knew that she meant no harm by those words, he had tried many times to simply _tell off_ his brother but that usually earnt him a sennights worth of sight through one eye. He closed the door behind him and hugged her. "They are just clothes Shiera, more can be commissioned," he told her, hushing her cries by stroking her hair.

"Valaar," she whispered, "I will be presented to the Prince looking a fool."

He did not know how to respond, instead chose to sit her down on the straw bed. He sat down next to her and held her hand as she cried softly, mumbling incoherent sentences to herself as she did so. And as he did, he could not help but savour the smell of her hair, the sound of her voice or the feel of her touch.

 _If it's to be my last time with the woman who has my heart, then let it be a sweet time._ Valaar thought to himself, closing his eyes and relishing at the moment.

 **Stormlands – Shipbreaker Bay**

Shiera was woken violently, she had been flung from her uncomfortable bed onto the more uncomfortable floor. She looked up to the dingy window and to the full moon if her time keeping was right, they had now been traveling for a little over a moon. She pushed herself from the floor only to be pushed back down again. Her mother, whose bed was right next to hers, was nowhere to be seen. Shiera, who now feared the circumstances, hearing the loud crashes of waves outside, swung the door to her room open, held herself up by the walls and climbed up the stairs.

What she next sent shivers down her spine, that and the freezing cold water falling from the skies onto her shivering body. Her brother and his men were working in complete darkness, screaming orders at one another, sliding from here to there and covering their hands. Shiera followed after them, the ship came to a standstill and a beastly amount of water came down on them.

"What are you doing here?" Valaar yelled at her, his white hair thin and matted, sticking to his pale face.

Shiera couldn't find the words to answer him, so she avoided the question. "What's happening?"

Valaar squinted his eyes to look in front of them. "They led us into a storm, the idiots. We turned mine around and we're leaving."

"Back home!?"

"The bay," Valaar responded, giving her a pointed look. "Until the storm calms down, now get back inside."

"But I-," her words were cut off by a loud crash and screams of all sorts. It wasn't coming from theirs, so it must've been the Windproud. Valaar was right, they had fallen into the traps of a storm and the Westerosi great ship was sinking into the water below them. _Father._ Shiera thought to herself, watching in the distance as black figures jumped from the ship, some were tossed by the water. It had happened so quickly, one moment it was sinking and the next the sea had eaten it up, as if it had never been.

Her ears began to ring, the screams of her mother muted by either water or her mind shutting them out. She was quickly pushed back to her room and left alone with her crying mother, the only sounds audible were the calming waters lapping against the ship. It seemed like the sea had gotten what it wanted, for the rain had stopped and the loud crashes along with it.

 **Stormlands – Storms End**

 _"Lord-…" The young, new Lord Paramount of the Stormlands was cut off from introductions._

 _Drazenko glared up at the boy, though Robert Baratheon was younger than him, he stood close to his height. "Where's my father's body?" He asked, watching was Robert looked his family up and down twice._

 _It was Alyse's turn to cut off her son. The boy had just lost both his parents, they were all mourning. "Thank you for welcoming us into your home Lord Robert, on such short notice."_

 _Drazenko rolled his eyes at her lack of knowledge on Westerosi manners. "And so on and so on…show us the body."_

 _Robert looked down at Drazenko, amazed at his coldness. Was this supposed man not his father, assuming by the sad looks etched on his mother and siblings faces. "It's in the crypts, we figured you'd want the body cleaned and-…"_

 _Fuck this man was rude, Robert thought to himself, he was cut off again!_

 _"He's dead, what possible reason would we want the body cleaned for?"_

 _"Respect," it was Stannis Baratheon's turn to talk, angered by the disrespect that the foreigner showed his brother._

 _"I only respect those with a heartbeat," Drazenko snapped back, his red eyes boring into Stannis' own._

 _"And you're sure you have one?"_

* * *

 **** Sennight = 1 week.**

 **SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE**

 **OOOOOOooo I'm going to do these cliffhanger things when I wanna make you guys ITCH. I hope that one made you itch? It's the only part of chapter 3 that has any real dun dun dun to it. RIP Steffon and Cassana though, I really liked writing them and I feel like they loved each other very much. It would've been disrespectful to even write their deaths from their point of views…can you even imagine, I'd be too sad. So that's it for now, let me know what you think or any errors I've made if I've made any. Does Drazenko piss you off? He pisses me off lmao I'd punch his dick but then he'd probably choke me out lol. Love writing evil characters because they have no limits!**

 **Happy Saturday/Sunday/ Monday (I have no idea how world times work :/**

 **Also anyone watching the World Cup. I bet $50 on Sweden and they lost. :'((((**

 ****I'm thinking of doing an Elia and Rhaegar fanfic (because Elia is the ONE true queen lmao anyone who thinks Lyanna deserved anything (but Robert sucked I feel sad for her on that note) can square the fuck up with me!) (I write OC x Rhaegar because these are practice runs for my actual book which will be called ALL LIVES MATTER and I can't give anything away but you'll know when I'm on Ellen and when I've sold my soul and I'm in a love scandel with Harry Styles and the Prince of Greece XD)**

 **k bye xxx**


	3. Chapter 3

**SHIPBREAKER BAY**

 **277 AC**

 **Stormlands – Shipbreaker Bay**

She couldn't bear the feeling of sand between her feet, especially knowing her father's dead body had been dragged through the very same substance. Holding her mother's tightly, Shiera followed her eldest brother as he led them to a dozen or so boulder-sized men. As Drazenko neared them, the man who stood front and centre of the group came forward to greet them.

Letting her daughters hand go, Alyse spoke up, fearing her son would ruin ties with the Baratheon's before they had even been made. "Our condolences Lord Baratheon had we known a storm was-,"

Robert Baratheon held his hand up in protest, "both our families have lost a father today, there's no need for that Lady Rogare."

There was shuffling behind them and Shiera watched as their hired men from Lys carried everyone else's trunks towards the ghastly castle behind them. _How had she not noticed it?_

A younger looking boy who had been stood as still as stone stepped forward to stand next to Robert. "Your men can follow ours up towards the castle, the entrance gets a little confusing."

Robert glowered at the younger boy, "you must excuse my younger brother, he has forgotten his manners. Stannis, second son."

Drazenko scoffed, "you take us for fools, I have studied your families lineage Lord Baratheon."

Robert frowned at Drazenko, obviously, his father had not warned him of his .. crude nature. "Lord –" the young, new Lord Paramount of the Stormlands was cut off from introductions.

Drazenko glared up at the boy, though Robert Baratheon was younger than him, he stood close to his height. "Where's my father's body?" He asked, watching as Robert looked his family up and down twice.

It was Alyse's turn to cut off her son. The boy had just lost both his parents, they were all mourning. "We must thank you for welcoming us into your home Lord Robert, on such a short notice."

Drazenko rolled his eyes at her lack of knowledge on Westerosi manners. "And so on and so on…show us the body."

Robert looked down at Drazenko, amazed at his coldness. Was this supposed man not his father, assuming by the sad looks etched on his mother and siblings faces. "It's in the crypts, we figured you'd want the body cleaned and-…"

 _Fuck this man was rude_ , Robert thought to himself, he was cut off again!

"He's dead, what possible reason would we want the body cleaned for?"

"Respect," it was Stannis Baratheon's turn to talk, angered by the disrespect that the foreigner showed his brother.

"I only respect those with a heartbeat," Drazenko snapped back, his red eyes boring into Stannis' own.

"And you're sure you have one!?" Valaar snapped, pulling his mother and sister forward. "Lord Baratheon, I apologise for my brother's actions, if you'd be so kind as to lead us to our rooms."

Robert nodded his head in understanding. "Of course."

He bowed his head curtly and held his hand out for Drazenko to shake. Her brother disregarded his a

 **Stormlands – Storms End**

Shiera couldn't keep her eyes off the sea clashing beneath her. She had been shown her rooms and left to grieve her father's death alone, with her brothers attending the _formal_ matters of their transportation to the Capitol or in her own words doing nothing. There was a loud knock at her door and she moved from the window quickly to pull it open.

 _Was everything here mad of stone?_ She thought to herself, rubbing her wrists at the size of the door.

"My mother used to say this castle was made for giants." It was Robert. Shiera smiled softly, watching as he looked to the floor shortly and then back up at her again. "I came to see how you were fitting it."

Shiera nodded her head in appreciation. She wasn't used to talking to many people, let alone men. "I'm good," she squeaked.

"My brother Stannis isn't the best with placing, sorry he put you in the scariest room," Robert smiled.

Shiera's eyes budged out. "Scariest?"

Robert let out a stiff laugh, "scariest view, I didn't mean to frighten you."

Shiera felt her shoulders sink in relief, she tapped her foot awkwardly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "So…is it always this cold in your homeland?"

Robert closed the door behind him, watching as servants hustled and bustled behind him preparing for both a funeral and their departure. "No, just here in the Stormlands. Different weather for different names you could say."

"Your ancestors must've been creative," she chuckled, taking back her spot in front of the large window. Robert stood next to her, hands behind his back. "I quite prefer the cold, Lys' weather was too…hot."

Robert scoffed, "you'll like Dragonstone then if Rhaegar chooses to hide you away there."

Shiera snapped back at him. "I won't be _hidden_ anywhere. Not anymore." The last words came out as mumbles.

Robert put his hands up in surrender. "Tell that to your betrothed, not your friend."

Shiera sighed, turning away from him. She had noticed though that his eyes had a slight puffiness to them, his cheeks and lips smiled but his eyes refused to be a part of the façade he was putting on. "Sorry, it's just…" she bit her lip wondering if she could trust this stranger, "my brother has controlled my entire life, from what I wore to what I ate and if I can I won't let it happen again. Or I'll try my best not to."

"Rhaegar is a good man," Robert simply responded. He looked at her attire and clicked his tongue, "would you like me to call in a seamstress? You don't want to disappoint the royal family in their own home do you now?"

 _How could we possibly afford a nobleman's seamstress?_ Shiera thought to herself. If she declined, she'd have to make do with her mother's clothing retrieved from Shipbreaker Bay, if she accepted…well she wouldn't even be able to pay for the dresses.

Robert saw her pondering the idea but before she could respond he spoke up. "Consider it an early wedding gift from the Baratheon's, after all, we are responsible for the union." He smiled, winking at her as he made his way out of her room. "I'll send for the seamstress first thing tomorrow, as for today you can explore, have your supper or rest. We leave for the capitol in a sennight. I'll have lunch brought in. Good day, Lady Rogare." With that his exist was final, leaving as quickly as he had entered.

…

As he returned to his chambers to mourn, Stannis Baratheon couldn't help but come to despise the family who had been partly responsible for his parent's deaths. Better yet, families. He couldn't deny that the Targaryen's were his family through his paternal grandmother, but that did not mean he hated them any less. He hated Aerys for his demented and perverse thoughts, wondering exactly why the crown had to be kept in their name or as close to it. He wondered if his parents had the unfortunate mishap of having a daughter as a first born if she would be the one that would've been offered to Rhaegar. Maybe the lack of a female counterpart for the Prince was a sign that it was finally time to leave their old ways.

He watched as the eldest Rogare ordered his families servants to prepare his fathers' body. What for, Stannis had no clue. He made a beeline for the entrance of the Godswood, wanting to come to understand the brother of his soon to be … _good-cousin first removed or whatever the hell they were about to be…_ he thought to himself.

Walking behind Drazenko he carefully began to speak. "Where will you bury him?" He asked, wondering why he had refused the offer of burying him in their crypts.

Drazenko turned to Stannis, who took a step back, his piercing red eyes jolting his heart awake. "I won't," he responded gruffly.

"So you will just let his body rot out here?" Stannis asked, not wanting to tell him he could not do that for fear of being sliced in half by the man.

Drazenko let out a curt laugh. "He doesn't deserve it." He nodded his head indicating for the servants to do as they had been told. Apparently, that had been lying dead grass, twigs and tree covers on and around the wrapped body.

"You cannot burn a body here. It's a sacred place," Stannis warned him.

Drazenko really laughed at him now. "You think I give a shit about your gods? You mistake me, Lord Stannis Baratheon." Before Stannis could even rebut, a torch was thrown onto the body engulfed it in flames. Stannis took a few steps back, the heat and smell of a burning body becoming unbearable. "Tell that to your Gods," Drazenko spat.

Stannis bit the inside of his cheek, revolted by the smell the burning body was creating. "You know … once you are in Kings Landing you cannot do as you please. The King is not one to tolerate shit stirrers."

Drazenko clicked his tongue in distaste, growing tired of the young boy. "Your _King_ will learn to live with it."

It was Stannis' turn to laugh, he pondered on warning him of the deteriorating state of King Aerys but chose against it. So instead, he patted him on the shoulder, "you know what? You're right. He must learn to live with it. Give them hell," and with that, he made his way back into the castle.

…

Valaar wondered the halls of the great castle. Their entire home was a servants room compared to the grand scale of Storms End. Not only was it designed for functionality, but through his eyes, for beauty. Lost in his trance by the interior of the castle, Valaar didn't notice its owner, Robert Baratheon and walked right into him.

"Watch where you're going," Robert huffed, dusting himself off.

Valaar shook his head, "sorry," he muttered moving aside to continue his walk.

Robert sighed and patted his back. "I knew this day would come, it's just taking a little readjusting…"

"I understand, I'm not exactly the one taking over my family so I cannot relate," Valaar smiled light-heartedly. "I wish you well though, Lord Baratheon."

"And I you," Robert smiled back. There was a second of shuffling, as neither knew how to exit the situation they were currently in. "If you're looking for your sisters' room, it's the one at the end of the hallway. Do tell her that her betrothed is on his way, we're having a family funeral tonight when they arrive."

Valaar nodded a thank you and left Robert to his own devices. Knocking on the door lightly, he waited for his sister to respond. "Come in," her faint voice rang from inside.

Pushing the door open, Valaar stumbled in. "Sister," he smiled giving her a light kiss on the cheek. She had been sitting at a table and was fumbling with the tea tray that was set in front of her. "I hear the Targaryen's arrival is expected soon."

Shiera's eyes perked up, a nervous churning erupting in her stomach. "How soon?"

"Soon enough for the new Lord to host a private family funeral for his parents with them."

Shiera shook her head. "We ought to be ashamed of ourselves. Letting Drazenko ridicule fathers memory in such a way."

Valaar glared at the girl. "If it weren't for our beloved father we would be living comfortably back at home, better yet we wouldn't have to beg to survive off of Westerosi," he reminded her.

Shiera rolled her eyes, feeling his cool touch on her shoulders. She reached over to touch his own hand and patted it gently. "Nevertheless, he was still our father. We would not be alive if it weren't for him."

Valaar struggled to come up with a rebuttal, and sighed resting his chin on the oak chair she was sat on. "Let's run away, you and me."

As soon as he had said it he regretted the words leaving his mouth. His sister's neck snapped back at him and she stood from her seat abruptly. "Oh because two white-haired people strolling through towns wouldn't be seen as outsiders?"

"We can rub tar in it," Valaar shrugged.

Shiera scoffed at him. "We'll just rub tar in our eyes two while we're at it? Or shall we cover your red eye with an eyepatch, and we'll gouge mine out?"

"What's the matter with you?" Valaar snapped, wondering when his sister had gotten so jolty and gruesome with her words. He touched his red eye attentively. "At least _I_ would have a cover," he boasted glad that their dysfunctional genetical makeup had given him at least one normal looking blue eye.

"Then leave," Shiera suggested. "You have the option, leave. Sail back home with your men or wander around this shit hole."

Valaar sat her back down on the chair. "I know you are angry … and I know I am the only person you can share that anger with but there is no reason to be angry with me. _I'm_ not the reason why we're here." He reminded her, placing his hand on her shoulder once more.

Shiera sighed and closed her eyes. "I know. I just … I thought I would at least have the option of choosing who I wanted to marry."

"Just because we will not be married, doesn't mean we cannot be lovers." Shiera stood from her seat, brushing his hands off her shoulders, growing repulsed by her brother. Valaar scoffed, "don't act like you don't share my love. We can do as we please here. The _royal_ family is made up of brothers and sisters getting married." His tone quickly changed as he walked towards her and placed her hands on his chest.

"Valaar!' Shiera snapped. "The Targaryen's do not marry each other for love, the marry each other to keep power in their name." She reminded him, disgusted at his proposal.

He held tightly to her hands as she tried to shake them off. "I am in love with you, always have been and always will be can't you see? Shiera we are for each other," Valaar rambled.

As he continued his words of affection, Shiera managed to shake her hands free from his. "We cannot see each other anymore Valaar. You make it difficult for me to love you as a sister should love a brother. I put up with it in Lys because I believed that one day I could make you realise the perverted nature of your ways but you are unchangeable."

She saw pools of water form in his eyes as her words left her mouth, but she did not regret them, for she knew she was right. "You don't mean that you're just angry at Drazenko for the betrothal."

"No! I am angry at both of you for being perverted _freaks_. It's wrong Valaar, it's wrong and disgusting. I would never love you outside of a brother and if it is harsh words that must remind you then so be it."

Valaar nodded his head, not in understanding but rather in denial. "Well, we don't have to go through the extremes of never seeing each other again. I am your brother and will be with you until your first son is born under oath." His efforts had not stopped there, as she pondered his words Valaar took her small face planted a kiss on her lips and made for the door. "We _will_ be lovers, I will not stop fighting for you until the day I breathe my last breath."

He may have left on a dementedly romantic note, but for Shiera it repulsed her to no end. The small lunch she had been served under Robert's instruction made its way back out and landed on the cool black floor of Storms End.

 _I wonder._ Shiera thought to herself, looking at her vomit on the floor. _Was I such a terrible human in my past life that I had to be brought into this one?_

* * *

 **I'm back with this story! For all of you who read Lust and Fire please remember it is now The Emancipation of Rhaegar. Anyway! This was more of a filler chapter, our girl will meet Rhaegar in the next one. Let me know what you thought of it. I'm trying to make Drazenko into a Ivar the boneless (vikings) kind of guy, just evil for the shits and giggles soon. Will he get along with Aerys or not dun dun dunnnnnn. I hope you all enjoyed! Sorry as well I know I said November 12th but as you all know my posting is horrible and I make promises I can't keep :((((**

 **Love.**

 **xxx**


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